Madman’s Method: Madman Duet Book One

by Mason, V. F.

  Once we are inside the small establishment, the smell of sugar and cinnamon enters my nostrils and my stomach growls as my mouth waters just remembering how the dough here melts on my tongue.

  Sam nudges my shoulder. “Told you it has the best pancakes.” Then she looks around the place, which is crowded with around fifteen people, but it might as well be a hundred since the café has about ten tables and one spacious room with the counter area a few feet away.

  Two of the waitresses rush around, quickly placing orders and getting them to hungry customers. There are loud noises everywhere from the plates clinking against each other to loud arguments about the latest sports season that is never ending here.

  Sam tips her head from side to side, examining each table, and then waves at the dark-haired woman who sits by a table near the window, flipping through a magazine. “Let’s go. Meghan is here.”

  Ah, right.

  The dark-haired beauty who used to be popular among the guys back in high school, not only for her looks but also brains. She was a sweetheart through and through, so it baffled me why she married Aaron of all people who was an asshole even back in high school.

  At least she got her gym out of it.

  “I brought a plus one,” Sam says, dropping onto the chair so I pick the one opposite the window so I will have clear view of both women.

  “Hey. I hope you don’t mind,” I address Meghan, and she snorts.

  “Mind? Girl, you saved me from the dragon. You can have brunch with us till the day you die.” She waits a bit before adding, “Which I hope will be in the far, far future.”

  “Dragon?” I ask in surprise and thank the waitress who gives us menus, vanishing between the tables. “Oh, you mean Patricia.” I laugh a little at this, but then again I’m not sure such a beautiful mythical creature should be compared to her.

  “The one and only. She was hell-bent on buying that place for her elite”—she makes air quotes with her fingers—“gym. Folks were actually looking forward to it. Not everyone would have been able to afford it, but my most profitable clients would have gone there.”

  Sam rests her cheek on her palm. “Yeah, it was a bitch move.”

  Meghan rolls her eyes. “It was a Patricia move.” She glances my way. “Sorry about that. She might be your new friend for all I know.”

  My brows furrow at this, but that’s when Marta, the owner, comes by, placing two hands on her hips as she cocks her head to the side and studies me. “Aren’t you pretty.” She pats my head while I just sit there, deciding she can guide the show.

  Marta is in her eighties now, so she has this tendency to treat everyone as naughty kids. “I assume you want your regular, and you,” she tells me, “will have special pancakes with strawberry syrup.” Both women groan, and she waggles her finger at them. “Nope, you both don’t get it.” And with that, she walks off to greet other guests.

  “You sure know how to hold a grudge!” Meghan shouts after her and then explains to me, “During our senior year, we came here with the entire class, and one thing led to another… and we spilled the freaking strawberry syrup all over the place. For ten years now, she won’t serve it to anyone from our class.”

  Oh, I remember that.

  Our punishment had been to clean the place after school for two months straight, and oddly enough no one ever complained, maybe because Marta was loved by everyone.

  “So you have huge plans for this studio, huh? Cole told us.” More like Cole told his sister and she told the entire town; their family never could keep their traps shut.

  My mood instantly sours at the reminder of my studio, and I dig my fork in the pancakes the waitress just now places in front of me.

  Meghan frowns, so Sam explains to her, “Eudard gave her a sanitary citation, so she can’t do anything with it for like a week, best-case scenario.”

  “Oh my God, you have to be kidding me.” Then she focuses her blue eyes on me. “He never does that.” Will everyone point that out to me? I feel so freaking special already! “He must have the hots for you. He probably didn’t like everyone’s attention on you in church.”

  My cheeks heat for some damn reason, even though that was the effect I was aiming for to begin with.

  “If he asks you out, say yes.” Sam leans closer, lowering her voice. “But say no to Cole, Ralph, Frank, or Ethan. Those guys are bad news.”

  I blink at this, because didn’t they all date those guys back in high school?

  Sans Cole of course.

  I don’t even bother to ask how they know those guys want me, because once again this is a small town. I’m surprised no one is screaming I’m having an affair with Ralph with poor Patricia crying at home.

  But then again, it hasn’t been twenty-fours yet since the lunch at her house, so the rumor is still a big possibility. “I don’t plan to date anyone,” I finally reply. I groan when the first taste of pancakes mixed with syrup hits my tongue and then wash it away with tea. “Besides, Ralph is married.”

  Meghan snorts at that but doesn’t elaborate, and I feel like there is a story. Interesting. “You don’t agree with me?”

  “Look, can I be honest with you?”

  “Meghan—” Warning laces Samantha’s tone when she sends a glare Meghan’s way, but her friend pays no attention to that.

  “I don’t care about the founding five and their rules. She is a newcomer and it’s my duty to tell the truth.” She presses her back to the window, wraps her mouth around the straw in her drink, and chews on it. “Those guys are bad news. You live in the Griffins’ house, right?” The forkful of pancakes pauses midway to my mouth. “You know the story behind that house?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Cool. Anyway, shit happened back then and their names were mentioned a lot in hushed whispers.”

  “We don’t know what really happened,” Samantha says and gives me a reassuring smile. “So talking about this is pointless.”

  “Okay, to be fair to everyone involved, we don’t know and we don’t have proof. Believe me, I’m the last person who will judge someone based on a rumor.” She puts her hand on her chest. “But Arianna Griffin, she was the sweetest girl in town. An ice princess. She volunteered in the local shelter; imagine any good deed and attach her name to that. If she claimed something, then it had to have merit.”

  “But once again, we have no proof.” Samantha emphasizes the last word and slides Meghan’s plate closer to her. “Eat your brunch, girl, because you need to go to work soon.” What a polite way to shut someone up, yet I can’t help but ponder their words.

  I thought the town believed the lies easily, and no one questioned it, but by their weird reaction, it’s not the case.

  I don’t have time to dwell on it though, because I feel a shadow fall over our table, and a melodic yet biting voice envelops us, hurting my ears from the displeasure ringing in it. “Isn’t this cozy?” Patricia speaks up, and our gazes meet. She smiles brightly, resting her hand on the back of my chair. “I’ve been searching for you everywhere to apologize for yesterday.” The incident must have scared her if she personally decided to give me an apology. “I have this invitation to a ball tomorrow that I’m hosting. For the poor kids of course. I was hoping to see you there despite the late notice. Not everyone gets such a privilege.” The only reason she even wants to invite me is because of what happened with Dorothy and my somewhat famous persona.

  “Yeah, if the football team consists of poor kids, then I’m a ballerina,” Meghan mocks, but Pat ignores it, the fire of annoyance in her eyes the only indication of her emotions.

  “But I see you have other company, so I wouldn’t want to pull you away from them.” Another bright smile and she blows me a kiss. “Have a nice day, Cassandra.” Her tone implies she wishes me anything but a nice day.

  Once she is gone, Samantha sends me a guilty look. “Sorry about that.”

  “Yeah, she might not be your friend anymore.”

  I shrug at this, not worried in
the least.

  Wooing friendships with her was never part of my plan. I just wanted to be close enough to her to have access to Ralph and her darkest secrets.

  And somehow I think I will find them at the ball that Eudard has invited me to.

  “Good riddance if you ask me,” Meghan says and then glances at her watch, jumping from her seat and throwing some money on the table. “Gotta go. I have my first client coming soon. Nice meeting you, girl, and anytime you need a girls’ night out, stop by my gym. Trust me, you might need it if the bitch here wants to make your life a living hell.” Giving me a light peck on the cheek, she does the same to Sam and leaves us alone.

  How the hell I don’t have whiplash from all the events happening today I have no clue. The last thing I imagined was having pancakes with two women I barely know who spring news on me about something from the past.

  Does it matter though?

  Patricia is hosting that precious party of hers and Eudard issued an ultimatum I couldn’t refuse.

  Welcome back to high school.

  Eachann

  Strolling through the church’s garden, I nod to every kid running around and the people working as I appreciate the beauty of nature surrounding this place that has such a calming effect on others.

  For example, one of the rose bushes was planted by foster kids who wanted to furnish something that would flourish and give hope that it’s possible to find beauty in every moment.

  Church is not only about praying and finding God like many believe, at least not to me. It’s a certain energy that should always offer understanding and shelter to all those lost souls coming here for help.

  But sometimes it becomes a place of their greatest nightmares as well.

  Shaking my head from all the evening musings, I stroll inside and halt my steps when I see Dorothy sitting on one of the pews, her forehead resting on the back of the other.

  The minute she sees me, she jumps up and almost runs to me, her cheeks smeared in mascara from her tears. Small sobs shake her body, and she wraps her hands around my middle. “Father Eachann, I’m so glad you’re here.” Her embrace burns my skin and disgust flashes on my face, but I have to rein in those emotions.

  For behind the walls of this church, I’m a priest ready to listen to every sinner, no matter their crimes, and not Eachann Campbell mourning the loss of the beautiful girl who shouldn’t have been in my thoughts to begin with.

  That’s when I signed her death warrant and so did Eudard.

  “Dorothy.” I grab her shoulders and push her back so I can study her features, and they give me only devastation. “What happened?”

  She whimpers into her fist and then points at the confessional. “Can we please talk there?” She glances around and hunches her shoulders. “I don’t want anyone to eavesdrop.” That’s highly unlikely at this hour, but her foot taps furiously against the marble, so I know she’s nervous.

  Although Dorothy Mitchell has been called different names through the years, nervous wasn’t one of them. Just one more thing Ethan gifted her in their marriage that served no one but him. “Of course. Come on in.” We quickly take our places, and I rest my back against the wooden wall while she exhales heavily, her profile visible through the screen separating us. “Everyone tells me to go to rehab.” I nod, even though she can’t see me, thinking it’s a good decision. Her drinking problem transformed this woman into one who takes crap from everyone.

  Both approaches are not healthy, but at least back then she didn’t have an addiction or chase Ethan like crazy. “That’s good.”

  “Everyone thinks it’s because of Ethan, but… it’s not. I love him, I really do.” There is so much longing in her voice that for a minute there I feel sorry for her but hope God will help guide her way. “But he is not coming back to me.”

  “Why are you drinking then?” If I let her, she will mumble about him for hours, and I don’t have time for that.

  She stays silent for several beats. I hear her knuckles cracking, and then she exhales raspingly. “Almost a year ago, I found certain paintings in Ethan’s safe.” I still, blocking everything away and concentrating only on her words. “I needed certain documents back, but he wouldn’t give them to me, so I had to be sneaky. Those paintings… they… they horrified me.” Her voice lowers. “It had Arianna in them, and… I never imagined… I never thought…”

  Her breathing speeds up as if she is on the verge of panic, so I snap, “Dorothy.”

  “I’m sorry.” She gulps for breath and continues. “Since then, I can’t sleep without having those images in my head. Without thinking of what happened. What I let happen,” she whispers, pressing her cheek to the screen. “When he found out about it, he screamed. I confronted him, of course, and then he told everything in detail. So I would know how I played into this and could never talk about this with anyone.”

  “The details of that night?” Even though I knew how I played into it all, I never knew what truly happened back then. It stayed a mystery to me despite everyone having different versions of the events.

  “I want to atone for my sins, but I think it’s impossible,” she whimpers, blowing her nose into a tissue. “I never meant for it to happen; please believe me. But this confession is the only way I can discuss it, and I need to. Arianna Griffin haunts me everywhere, and if I don’t share with someone, I’m going to go insane.”

  Fisting my hand, I chant a few prayers so the fury doesn’t penetrate my bones where nothing but the desire to punish those involved stays.

  Instead, I focus on my duty and reply with a soft tone, “Tell me exactly what happened.”

  And she does.

  Breaking my heart all over again.

  For the first time in my life, I pray for my brother to hear those words so he can do something about it, because compared to me… he has no mercy for any crime.

  A priest might forgive. A madman, though, makes you pay for every sin you ever committed.

  This truth I know better than anyone.

  Chapter Eleven

  “Monsters don’t exist, munchkin. Only in your imagination.”

  Daddy used say that to me whenever I cried over them or ran to their room because I heard noises at night.

  With time, I stopped, because I believed in his words.

  But Daddy was wrong.

  Monsters do exist, and they hide behind the most beautiful masks, luring their victims to them before tearing their hearts out.

  However, those creatures are not as dangerous as

  the ones who hide behind the façade of friendship.

  From the memories of Arianna Griffin….

  The minute Ethan’s car stops at the forest in no-man’s-land, I take off my seatbelt and dart outside, rushing toward the forest, my sneakers slapping loudly against the asphalt, while my raspy breath puffs into the air around me.

  “Patricia!” I shout into the night and hear Ethan jogging beside me, a heavy backpack on his shoulder, and for a second I wonder why he needs it, but I shake my head, focusing on finding my intoxicated friend. “Patricia!” She sent me a message around ten minutes ago claiming she had moved farther into the forest, near the mystic rock located closer to the cliff.

  There is an opening between two rocks that acts like a roof over it, creating a secluded place in this natural habitat, but everyone stays away from it, because legend says horrible things have happened there.

  Or maybe that’s just a bullshit story someone came up with so kids won’t venture there, since the cliff is just a few feet away and people could die if they’re not careful.

  “Patricia!” I shout again, and finally this time comes her muffed reply. “In here!” I fly inside between the rocks to come to her aid but stop dead when I don’t find her there alone.

  In fact, she is leaning on one of the rocks, her thumbs moving on her phone while Ralph, Frank, Cole, and Dorothy stand nearby, their gazes fixed on me.

  Music is coming from one of the portable speakers by Fra
nk’s shoes.

  What’s going on?

  “Pat, are you all right?” I come closer to her, and she raises her bored eyes to me, chuckling.

  “As you can see.”

  Frowning, I scan her from head to toe but find no signs of her being drunk. “You messaged me to come here.”

  “I did.”

  “You said you were sick.” I spin to Ethan, who steps slowly inside the rocks, flicking a lighter in his fingers and placing his backpack on the ground. Unexplained goose bumps break on my skin.

  Did it become chilly in here all of a sudden?

  “Why did you lie to me?” Then I shift my focus to the people still watching me silently.

  There is an odd energy coming from Ralph, who licks his lips and steps closer, so I move to Pat, avoiding him. The last thing I need is his attention after Patricia got pissed at the party. “And what are you all doing here?”

  Patricia pushes away from the wall and throws her hair over her shoulder, sighing. “I decided to help you with your fantasy.” What is she talking about? “There is no need to hide such desires.” She leans closer as if wanting to whisper something, but it’s loud enough for everyone to hear. “Consider it my present.”

  “I don’t understand.” I’ve never seen such an expression on her face before; it’s void of any emotion while a little snarl lingers there. Her eyes gleam with pleasure while she tsks, each word like venom. “Dorothy found your letter that you sent to Eachann.” She wiggles her fingers toward the girl, and Dorothy waves the letter, smirking in my direction and lighting up her cigarette. “They are good friends. Did you know that?”

  Even though I’m still confused with the whole situation, I’m momentarily surprised with this information. Since when was she his friend?